


Exhibition

by canis_lupus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Exhibitionism, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, PWP, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:45:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1249834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canis_lupus/pseuds/canis_lupus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's quite sure he has the best boyfriend in the world- if only his best friends would see that and stop pestering him! So he decides more drastic measures are called for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exhibition

“I don't know, Harry.” Draco frowned, ran one hand through his hair. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes!” Harry insisted. “I just... it's driving me bonkers! I think I'll scream if Ron tells me one more time about how I'm insane for being with you, or Hermione tries to talk to me about my 'unhealthy obsession' again. Yesterday she gave me a pamphlet for St Mungos! For a mind healer!” He huffed, crossed his arms, and paced the length of Draco's bedroom in agitation. “I can't do this anymore!” He whirled to face Draco again. “They just don't get it! They don't get _us_ , and I guess I can't really blame them, but... if they _knew_... if they could just _see_...”

“See us fuck?” Draco drawled, eyebrow hitched high in scepticism. 

“No! Yes! I mean...” It was Harry's turn to scrub an agitated hand through his hair. “If they could just see _you_ , the way I do, the way you are, maybe they'd _understand_.”

“Oh, c'mere.” Draco held out a hand, and after the briefest moment of hesitation Harry took it, let himself be pulled against Draco's tall, solid warmth. “You look like a hedgehog.” Draco combed his hair back down, as far as it ever went, then nudged his chin up. Harry looked up, into cool grey eyes, the faintest frown furrowing the flawless skin between Draco's slim, aristocratic eyebrows. “This is really that important to you, isn't it?” He draped his arms around Harry's waist, loosely-tangled fingers resting against the small of Harry's back. 

Harry nodded. “Yes, it is. Of course it is! You think I'd suggest this otherwise?”

The frown melted as Draco's trade-mark smirk pulled at his lips, crinkled the corners of his eyes, and that eyebrow arched again in all its expressive beauty. “Who knows?”, oh, and Draco was doing that thing with his voice where it went all smoky and suggestive, a seductive purr that always immediately put Harry in mind of filthy, filthy things no matter what Draco was actually saying. “Maybe you're harbouring a secret desire for exhibitionism, hm?” And, well, especially if he was saying things like _that_.

“No.” Harry rallied his thoughts and scowled up at his boyfriend. “I'm just sick and tired of explaining myself, especially to people who are hell-bent on not listening to a bloody word I say.”

Draco let out a sigh, dropped the bedroom voice, and pulled Harry close enough to rest his chin on Harry's head. “Oh, very well, then. If you insist.” 

Harry hugged Draco close in return, leaned into him and marvelled at the fact that he had the best boyfriend in the world. Now if only he could convince his friends of that.

***

Ron trotted down the corridor next to his girlfriend, making the appropriate grunts and hums of acknowledgement to accompany her lecture. Okay, maybe that wasn't strictly what a good boyfriend should do, but he'd been friends with this girl for eight years– he knew the lecture “Why school work is important for you” by heart, he did. And it wasn't like he needed it, right? After all, he was here, on his way to meet up with Harry for a study session after Harry's... date with his _boyfriend_. Ron wrinkled his nose at the thought. He didn't have a problem with the fact that his best mate had suddenly decided he was gay after all, really, he didn't. What he did have a problem with was the prick Harry'd chosen to be boyfriends _with_. Honestly, Draco bloody Malfoy? Really? The biggest git in school? That pasty, ferret-faced, bigoted prat who they'd all hated since first year, who'd hexed them and insulted them and tried to get them expelled and, let's not forget, had almost killed Katie and him? That slimy, cowardly piece of Slytherin trash? Ron just didn't understand what Harry could possibly see in Malfoy, how he could put up with him. Merlin, the way Malfoy talked, all sneers and disdain, the way he ordered Harry around, like Harry was some sort of lapdog– and Harry _let_ him! Something couldn't be right with that, Ron was sure of it. At the very least, Malfoy was taking advantage of Harry's inexplicable infatuation with him, at worst... Ron didn't really want to think about it. Curses and Dark magic and illegal love potions came to mind. But no matter how often he and Hermione tried to talk sense into Harry, he just wouldn't _listen_. Hermione thought it was something psychological, that something about the war, or maybe Harry's childhood, had made him susceptible to whatever evil ploy Malfoy was working, but Harry just wouldn't let them help and kept insisting he knew what he was doing. Yeah, right. If he was in his right mind, he wouldn't even let that slimy git touch him. Ron shuddered at the thought. How could Harry _stand_ it?

The door to the Room of Requirement was already there, and Ron followed Hermione through, trying very hard _not_ to think about the sorts of things Harry could possibly be doing with Malfoy. Several comments and reactions of Harry's had left him in very little doubt that they were having sex. Urgh. He'd rather not know, but at the same time, he couldn't help a certain morbid curiosity. Did Malfoy kiss, or was that too... _soft_ for an evil Slytherin? Did they touch each other in private places? Had they gone all the way? How were they doing it? Did Harry, his best mate Harry, fierce-but-clumsy Harry, take it up the arse? Surely not, right? But surely Malfoy the Git wouldn't be willing to take it up the arse from a Gryffindor, either. Was there some mysterious way for two Wizards to have sex that didn't involve arse-buggery that he didn't know about? Did Harry truly enjoy, really, truly enjoy, what they were doing together? He kept saying he did, but what did he know? Maybe he only _thought_ he did, because he didn't know any better? Was he really not being hurt?

Ron blinked, and looked around. Something was not right here. Why was the lighting so low? Why was there a folding screen a few feet from the door? Why was there a _bed_ beyond it, heavy, deep-red curtains tied back to massive, dark posts? Why wasn't this the room they normally met to study in?

A deep, masculine chuckle reached his ears from beyond the folding screen. 

He exchanged a confused look with Hermione, and they both peeked around the edge of the screen. Then they quickly ducked back and exchanged another look, horrified this time. 

Skin. Ack! Lots of skin, gleaming pale against the deep colour of the sheets. Oh Merlin, he'd just seen Draco Malfoy _naked_! Very, very, very naked, kneeling in the middle of a large bed. Kneeling between the legs of Harry, who was also very, very, very naked. Naked and on his back with his legs spread wide around Malfoy, and there were hands on him, Ron hadn't quite worked out where, but he was pretty sure that was just as well, he didn't really need to know. Didn't really want to know.

Hermione's eyes were very wide, a blush was crawling up into her cheeks, and Ron was pretty sure her flummoxed expression mirrored his own. They glanced at the door, at each other, and then quickly, silently, stole back over to it. 

Escape was the only thing on Ron's mind as he reached for the handle, and so it took him a moment to realize that the door was not opening when he pressed it down. He frowned, tried again, pushed against the wood with his shoulder. It didn't budge. 

Hermione frowned at him as he stepped back and shook his head. She tried as well, then pulled her wand to cast a non-verbal Alohomora. The door stayed shut. “Oh, that's nice,” Harry said from beyond the screen, voice rough and a little breathless in a way Ron had never heard before. 

Ron looked around. The room was generous in size, thick, lush carpet under his feet, the folding screen and bed its only furnishings. The only light came from somewhere across the room, beyond the bed, thick and fire-yellow, clothing the corners in shadows. And if Malfoy were to lean back some, he couldn't miss seeing them standing there by the door. 

Ron gripped Hermione's hand and drew her with him behind the screen. It was high enough to hide them. 

It was also closer to the bed. Ron could hear the rustle of fabric. 

Why, oh why, did Harry and Malfoy have to choose this place of all to shag? Didn't the prat have his own bedroom?

Hermione was casting spells at the door from the distance, moving her lips along soundlessly. Merlin, Harry and Malfoy were just feet away, they'd hear even the quietest whisper. The door didn't move. 

Harry moaned. Ron squeezed his eyes shut. Harry panted out a few heavy breaths, then moaned again. That chuckle sounded again, and Ron realized it had to belong to Malfoy. He'd never heard Malfoy laugh like that before. There was no disdain or derision in it. 

“You're an arse,” Harry told Malfoy, quite clearly and without any bite at all. Then he laughed a little, breathless but amused. What had Malfoy done? What was he doing? 

Ron peeked around the corner of the screen again. Yes, he knew he _shouldn't_ , but... he had to know, all right?

Malfoy was still kneeling between Harry's thighs, splayed open for him, and now Ron could see his hand vanishing between Harry's legs, moving. Also, he was grinning. Grinning broadly, tip of his tongue stuck between his teeth, eyes on Harry's face, while his free hand rested on Harry's hip, opposite from Ron, thumb rubbing into the dip on the inside of Harry's hipbone. 

Ron stared. Stared at that broad curve of lips, the bright flash of teeth, at pale blond hair that was just a little ruffled, at that finger _stroking_ Harry's skin almost... soothingly. 

Harry was propped on his elbows, mouth slightly open as he panted, eyes locked on Malfoy's face in turn. Then he moaned again, threw his head back, eyes closed and brow furrowed, _arched_ , stomach tightening, hips tilting, knees rising and heels digging into the mattress. 

Malfoy hummed, still smiling. _Smiling_. “Like that, do you?”

“As if you don't know! Oh, God, yes, right there! Draco...! Do that again.”

His body undulated in another arch. And another. Malfoy moved his free hand to Harry's stomach, pressing his palm down over his navel. Harry kept squirming. And moaning. 

Whatever Malfoy was doing with his fingers way down there, Harry was enjoying himself, that much was obvious. Ron tried hard not to look at his best friend's cock, but that was rather difficult since it was... prominent. 

“Okay, okay, enough!” Harry panted, slumping against the mattress and lifting his head again. “Get to it already!”

“Are you sure? Adequate preparation is important, you know.” Malfoy's face was wearing the most innocent expression Ron had ever seen on it. Harry glowered up at him from between sweaty, tangled strands of fringe, chest heaving. 

“Draco, I swear...! Stop being such a bloody tease and fuck me already!”

Malfoy clucked his tongue. “Bossy, love.”

“You.” Harry pointed at Malfoy's chest, then at his own groin. “In. Now.”

Now Malfoy smirked, an expression almost familiar, except for the intense look in his eyes as he shifted his weight, withdrew his hand, moved in and forward, one hand under Harry's knee, holding him open, the other guiding himself, down and in, mostly hidden from Ron's view, but he could still imagine what was happening as their hips met. 

His cock throbbed in sympathy and he realized he was hard. Oh, Merlin, he was hard from watching Malfoy bugger his best mate. But he couldn't help it! He was a bloke, and there was fucking going on right in front of his eyes. Malfoy was moving, careful and shallow at first, then gaining depth and speed. Harry wrapped his legs around his waist, kept him close, as Malfoy leaned forward, rhythm never faltering, and brought their faces closer. Harry pushed up on his elbows again, and their mouths met, open, sloppily, lips sliding across each other with more good will than coordination. 

“Mmm,” Harry made, the sound he usually reserved for treacle tart, and darted his tongue out to lick across Malfoy's mouth, then into it on the next thrust. Malfoy returned the favour, eyes closed and head tilted sideways. 

Apparently, he did kiss. 

Harry moaned, then sighed when their mouths parted again, threw his head back with eyes half-shut and an expression of bliss on his face. 

“So good...” He panted. “Draco...!”

Their bodies were gleaming with sweat in the firelight, and even Malfoy's usually perfect hair was sticking to his face here and there. His brows were furrowed in concentration, and Ron could see the muscles all along his back, in his arms and his legs work to keep up his implacable rhythm. 

Ron swallowed and resisted the urge to press his hand down on his own dick. Bloody hell, Malfoy was a lucky bastard. Ron couldn't help but envy him the opportunity to fuck. It was sex, damn it, and all Ron could think about was how good it would feel to have a hot, slick body under him, around him, to be able to give over to that primal urge to thrust. 

Harry was making noises, half-choked moans and whimpers, pushing and arching and squirming into every one of Malfoy's thrusts, chest heaving, bed sheet clenched in his fingers. There was the sound of bodies moving on fabric, and wet skin meeting wet skin. Malfoy was breathing heavily, eyes fixed on Harry's face. 

“Salazar, you feel good, love,” he told Harry, voice rough. 

Harry laughed, the sound broken by his panting. “You sure that's the right name... to call on right now?... What would he say... if he'd see what one of his... is up to?”

“Oh, he'd be proud. Gryffindor's famous Golden Boy... and I get to fuck him.” Malfoy leaned down a little further, arms trembling with the strain. “Everybody wants you, and _I_ get to have you.” 

Fuck, he was gloating. Malfoy was gloating, to Harry's face, while they were fucking. There was triumph in his voice, and a hot frisson of anger jolted Ron out of the maelstrom of sex he'd been caught in. 

Harry laughed. Harry laughed, breathless but real, a rumble from his chest, teeth flashing, eyes crinkling. “Awfully smug about that, aren't you? You're so getting off on it.”

“Oh, yes,” Malfoy admitted without the slightest sign of remorse, voice dark and rough. Harry's eyelids fluttered, his spine arched. “And don't pretend you're any better. As if you don't get off on taking it up the arse from _me_.” He gave an especially vigorous shove with his hips and tilted his head down, lips a hand span from Harry's ear. “Bad boy, Potter.”

Harry moaned, loudly, shuddered, then whimpered. “Oh, god, please, Draco, touch me. Please, please, please...!”

Malfoy pushed himself higher up again, shifted his weight backwards until he could take one hand off the bed and reach down between Harry's legs, to wrap his fingers around what looked like a very hard erection. Ron quickly tore his eyes away again, back to Harry's face. Harry's eyes were screwed shut, his body straining restlessly, and he was chanting Malfoy's name. Malfoy's first name. And it didn't take long at all before he came with a wordless shout, came hard, too, from the looks of it. 

Malfoy kept moving, hands on Harry's hips, skin gleaming with sweat, chest heaving, pale strands of hair swaying around his face, even as Harry slumped back on the bed, gulping in great gasps of air. His legs released their grip on Malfoy's waist, dropped down, joining the rest of him in a boneless sprawl. 

He didn't seem to mind at all that Malfoy was using his pliant body to get himself off, that he was going harder and faster if anything, fingers digging into Harry's skin and face tilted up, eyes closed. Harry sighed, and hummed, a pleased little sound. Malfoy gave a choked grunt, and shuddered, came with a full-body spasm. Then he sank forward, collapsed until his forehead was resting in the middle of Harry's chest. Harry raised a heavy hand and ran it through Malfoy's hair, a smile on his face Ron had never seen before. 

He stared, stupefied, at Harry's fingers slowly carding through white-blond hair until a tug on his sleeve distracted him. It was Hermione, eyes wide and face flushed. He followed her gaze and saw that the door was ajar. He threw a last look at the couple on the bed, but they hadn't moved, didn't seem about to look up, and so they quickly hurried out, finally, and Hermione drew the door shut, ever so quietly. 

Ron slumped against the wall next to it and let out a huge breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. He cast another look at Hermione, at her red face, and found himself blushing as he met her eyes. Uncomfortable, he scrubbed a hand through his hair. 

“So, er... good work on finally getting the door open?” Merlin, that was lame. He almost winced at himself. 

“Um, thanks,” Hermione said. “I didn't, though.”

“Huh?”

“Well, the door... it just opened on its own. I'm not sure why.”

“Huh...” Ron blinked, but he really didn't have enough blood in his brain right now to solve the mystery of the self-opening door. “We should... probably wait until they come out, yeah?” he suggested instead. 

Hermione nodded vigorously. “Yes. Yes, we definitely should. Let's just... stand over there.” She pointed to the wall on the other side of the corridor, and they hurried over. Hermione was taking deep breaths and smoothing down the fabric of her robes, and Ron took deep breaths and tried to will his hard-on away.

***

“Are they gone, then?”

Harry trailed his fingers once more through the fine, soft strands of Draco's hair at the base of his skull. “Well, I think so, but I can't see from here. Why don't you check?”

Draco gave a wordless grumble, but heaved his head off of Harry's chest and sat back to look over his shoulder. Then he turned back around, disentangled himself from Harry's legs, and lay down next to him instead. “Yeah, they're gone,” he confirmed. 

Harry rolled onto his side, into Draco's arms and tucked his head under Draco's chin. Draco's hands were drifting across his skin, lazy and lingering, and they lay quietly for a little while. 

“So, do you think that little display helped in any way?” Draco asked finally, voice a little muffled by Harry's hair as he pressed a kiss into it. 

Harry sighed in pleasure and stretched lazily against him. “We'll see. And if it didn't, we can always try again until they get it.” 

Draco pulled back slightly at that, enough to look down and catch Harry's eye. Harry grinned up at him. Draco raised an eyebrow. “Are you quite certain that you don't have a secret kink for exhibitionism?”

“Hm.” Harry thought about it for a moment. “Well, maybe I do. Just a tiny little bit. Didn't you have fun?”

Draco shrugged, and ran his fingertips through Harry's fringe. “It was sex. Of course I had fun. But I don't think I share that particular kink of yours. I'm more comfortable when we're alone.”

“Oh, well. We don't have to, if you don't like it.” 

Draco smiled and leaned in to press a kiss between Harry's eyebrows. “No need to sound so disappointed, love. I'm perfectly willing to indulge you every now and then.”

Harry grinned and drew Draco's head down for a kiss. “Have I told you recently that you're the best boyfriend in the world?”

***

When Malfoy stepped out of the Room of Requirement, he looked just like he always did: obnoxiously pressed and polished, arrogant and haughty and like he thought he was so much better than everyone else.

“Granger. Weasley.” He sneered at them, then turned to Harry, face devoid of any expression. “I'll see you tomorrow.” It was an order more than anything, and he didn't even wait for Harry's acknowledging nod, didn't answer the slight smile Harry gave him. He just strutted off down the corridor. 

Harry, on the other hand, was ruffled and obviously hastily dressed, and Ron thought he'd have known they'd been shagging even if he hadn't seen it. Harry gave them a smile, crooked and a little embarrassed. 

“I'm sorry, have you been waiting long?”

Ron exchanged a slightly panicked look with Hermione, and they both quickly denied. Harry smiled again, and led the way back into the Room of Requirement. This time, it was their usual room. 

Ron gave the back of Harry's head a puzzled frown as he followed him to the couch. 

Whatever his best mate had going on with Malfoy– he just didn't get it. 

 

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty sure I wrote this for a kinkmeme prompt, probably for the 2011 kinkmeme. Unfortunately, as you can tell, I have no idea whose prompt this was. But, it was a damn good prompt, so thank you, whoever you were!


End file.
